Once upon a time, I dreamed I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither. Suddenly I awakened, and there I lay, myself again. Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man.
Nothing is more sad than the death of an illusion.
The capacity of any conqueror is more likely than not to be an illusion produced by the incapacity of his adversary.
We must select the illusion which appeals to our temperament, and embrace it with passion, if we want to be happy.
The masses have never thirsted after truth. They turn aside from evidence that is not to their taste, preferring to deify error, if error seduces them. Whoever can supply them with illusions is easily their master; whoever attempts to destroy their illusions is always their victim.
The unknown always seems sublime.
For every age is fed on illusions, lest men should renounce life early, and the human race come to an end.
They pray not only for their daily bread, but also for their daily illusion.
It is respectable to have illusions – and safe – and profitable, and dull.
Therefore trust to thy heart, and to what the world calls illusions.